


We Once Gave Up

by elizajane



Series: Let Your Indulgence Set Me Free [8]
Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Future Fic, Multi, Outtakes, Porn with Feelings, Quickies, Unconventional Families, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 22:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3913117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizajane/pseuds/elizajane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duke knows from experience that anyone in the hall probably has a pretty clear idea of what’s going on inside. He admits to himself that part of him likes this: <em>Yes, I’m fucking my husband. Like he’s just fucked our wife.</em> [Duke POV]</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Once Gave Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crowgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/gifts).



> For [Crowgirl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl) because she read [Promises Made in Ink and Blood](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3871015), turned to me and said, "You realize you owe me an outtake, right?" Right. Well, this one basically wrote itself.

Duke pushes open the door of the restroom, closing and locking it behind him. Nathan is leaning with his back against the wall, by the paper towel dispenser, his eyes closed. He flickers his eyelids open when Duke walks in, but doesn’t otherwise move, just _looks_ at Duke.

It’s that particular look, the look of fathoms-deep hunger, that Duke remembers from all the way back in high school. From those unguarded moments when Duke would catch Nathan, watching him, from stage right while Duke ran through his lines. That fragile, open gaze that manages to convey both _I’m terrified of my love for you_ and _I’m terrified you’ll never know how much you mean to me_.

“Hey,” Duke says, suddenly feeling a bit teenagery awkward, “I -- Audrey said -- ” he gestures back toward the workroom where Gus has started Nathan’s ley line down Audrey’s right arm. They have maybe forty-five minutes for sex and tarts before their absence becomes glaringly obvious.

Nathan smiles at him, like he does, the sun coming out from behind a cloud, a quirk of the lips and a shine from his eyes. He reaches out and catches Duke’s hand, lacing their fingers, pulling Duke forward. Duke goes, willingly, dropping his other palm to Nathan’s hip, crowding into Nathan’s space, familiar and greedy.

“You know how Parker gets,” Nathan murmurs against Duke’s lips, nipping playful kisses into his mouth. “It hit her all at once, what we’re doing here. She just needed some grounding.”

“Grounding, huh?” Duke’s feeling simultaneously wired and stoned from how different this is, being here with the two of them. How different his headspace is now versus those bleak months he spent in Halifax raw from having left Nathan, pissed off and messed up and fucked over in more ways than one.

This is the do-over of all cosmic do-overs, he thinks, walking into this city, this place, with Nathan and Audrey at his side: no longer alone and no longer drifting. Almost like he’s showing the ghosts of tattoos past what the future will bring, and how goddamn _good_ it will be.

“Mmm,” Nathan hums in agreement, distracted by Duke’s proximity. “Grounding.” He rolls his hips up into Duke’s groin, pressing against all the right places. “Like this,” grazing fingers low on Duke’s belly, dragging his knuckles across Duke’s belt buckle, then down along the seam of his khakis, where Duke can feel himself starting to strain in his briefs.

“I can see -- see how that _would_ be a pretty good strategy.” Duke allows, playing along as he shifts into the touch, moving closer. He palms his hands up under Nathan’s shirt, smooths up up Nathan’s torso, takes his measure of Nathan’s ribcage. He loves to put his bare hands on Nathan’s skin there, reassure himself that Nathan’s unbruised and unbroken even in discretely covered places. Loves to feel lungs expand and contract with each breath, to count the steady beat of Nathan’s heart under his palm.

He thinks of Audrey, and Nathan, closed so recently in this room together. Thinks of how demanding and grabby Audrey gets, in those moments, when she needs one, or both, of them to bring her back from whatever ledge she’s in danger of slipping from. When she needs one, or both of them to affirm that she’s herself and she’s here. Duke shivers and his cock twitches. As if following Duke’s train of thought, Nathan lifts his hand from Duke’s belt to Duke’s face. Duke turns into the touch and his nose fills with Audrey: musky, and clean where she lingers underneath Nathan’s fingernails, on the pads of his fingers.

Without thinking, Duke drags his lips across Nathan’s flesh and mouths up Nathan’s soon-to-be ring finger, sucking the digit in slowly over his tongue.

Nathan’s breath hitches, quietly.

“This good?” Duke checks, even as his pulls in a second finger, works his lips over them, sucking, purposefully messy. He and Audrey check in like this often, even when Nathan’s sense of touch is online -- especially when Nathan’s touch is online -- because sometimes this kind of stimulation flips a switch from _incredibly awesome_ to _overwhelmingly bad_.

Nathan swallows and nods, his breath coming harsher: “Promise -- _promise_ me you’ll never stop touching, Duke, -- even if -- even when times get bad. I need -- I need to know you won’t let me -- ”

“I promise, babe, you know I do,” Duke presses Nathan into the wall, unzips Nathan’s fly, and slides a hand into his boxers. He fits his hand to Nathan’s cock where it curves heavy and tight along the groove of his hip. Nathan sucks in a sharp, choked off breath as Duke settles into a well-worn, confident rhythm: pull, smooth, and turn. They’ve been doing this for nearly two decades, now, and Duke thinks he would know Nathan’s dick in his sleep: the uncut foreskin, the swollen tip, the ropey vein that stands out purple-blue under his palm, the loose, silky skin underneath, the heft and hang of Nathan’s balls, the _scritch_ of his fur.

Yeah, he would know Nathan’s penis -- and every other line, curve, scar, and pulse point -- in his sleep and somehow that makes Nathan all the more beautiful and wondrous -- the gift of having _this_ for the taking. Every. Damn. Time.

“I’ll never stop touching you, like _this_...and like _this_.” He punctuates each repetition with a twist of his wrist. Nathan bites back a moan, obviously still attempting discretion, though Duke knows from experience that if anyone is standing in the hall outside right now they probably have a pretty clear idea of what’s going on inside.

He admits to himself that part of him likes the possibly-public nature of this: _Yes, I’m fucking my husband, like he’s just fucked our wife._

It’s the same part of him that wants visible marks on their skin.

Nathan’s close, now, shaking from tension, letting thin, needy noises escape from his lips. Duke shifts his footing, careful not to break rhythm, and presses his own mouth against the graceful curve of Nathan’s throat, across his adam’s apple, under his jaw, nips at his ear. They’ve done it together in so many ways, a full range of positions through which sensitive human parts can come together. But Duke secretly likes this way best: a hand between Nathan’s legs, the other at the nape of his neck or tweaking gently at a nipple, scraping teasingly across over-sensitive flesh. He likes to have Nathan’s mouth within reach, be able to watch hectic color spread across his face, know that when Nathan opens his eyes, unfocused and hazy with pleasure, it will be Duke’s face full of love he unerringly sees.

“Ah, _fuck_ \--” Nathan grunts, sharply, and pitches forward against Duke’s shoulder as he comes. hot and messy, into Duke’s hand.

Duke rolls sideways, letting the wall support him in turn, and pulls Nathan limply against him, reaching clumsily for the paper towels to wipe off his hand. They lean together, panting, for a few moments on unsteady legs.

He’s just starting to think vaguely of his own pent-up arousal when Nathan sinks, without grace, to his knees. He presses his face against the hollow of Duke’s hip, when pelvis meets thigh at the dark heat of his groin, and noses the cloth over the tip of Duke’s dick. It’s more or less how they’d been touching, back in the morning, as the osprey took shape between Nathan’s shoulders -- except infinitely dirtier. Duke reaches down, shaking, to unbutton his fly and pull open the zipper.

Even now, when they’re conscious that others will soon notice their absence, Nathan just can’t resist rubbing his cheek across Duke’s tangled curls, nosing slowly around the base of Duke’s cock.

“You’re killin’ me here, babe,” Duke whispers, both fond and frustrated, as he always is, the itch of an orgasm competing with the never-old pleasure of watching Nathan drink in skin-to-skin touch.

He steadies his breathing and tries to slow himself down, skating his palms across Nathan’s shoulders, distracting himself by trying to remember where Nathan’s ley lines will lie. _Ley lines_ , he’s been thinking of them: lines of great power. As if by binding them all, each to the other, Duke can ward off the vengeful ghosts of all his past failures and future shortcomings. Not to mention the hazards of his spouses’ motherfucking heroics.

Every damn day he lets them walk out his front door, knowing this could be the day when one or both of them never return. This ink is his talisman against such a future, imbued with whatever power his Haven blood can bestow.

Duke braces himself back against the wall and bites his own tongue against the encouraging noises he’d very much like to make as Nathan settles into his work. Duke may have gotten distracted, for a bit, attending to Nathan, but his dick certainly hasn’t forgotten how interludes like this are supposed to end, and he can feel his muscles jumping and clenching under Nathan’s tongue, lips, and hands. This won’t take long.

Nathan loves using his mouth on both Audrey and Duke, partly because even when his nerves aren’t functioning well his sense of taste and smell are just fine. So he’s spent a lot of time, these last years of the Troubles, perfecting the art of the tongue-and-teeth tease. He’s liberal with saliva, generous with the pressure of lips and selective with suction. He nips and scrapes to test and explore, pushing his partners to the brink and admonishing them: _not so fast, you, I’m not done savoring everything your scent and taste and fucking gorgeous texture have to offer._

In a way, Duke thinks, as Nathan does something intense and quite filthy at the tip of Duke’s cock -- _Jesus_ \-- this whole day has been, and will continue to be -- _ohGod_ \-- the most intense sort of foreplay. This orgasm is probably just a prelude for -- _unghh_ \-- and there’s the orgasm cresting and breaking, and he’s arching back, scrabbling for purchase against the wall, doing his best not to make himself heard down the hall. “Ah, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ \-- Nathan -- _fuck_ \--”

When the last aftershock passes, and he has some semblance of coordination, Duke pulls Nathan, weakly, onto his feet for a kiss, taste the bitter tang of himself on Nathan’s tongue.

They’re sweaty and sticky and hardly presentable. Nathan looks thoroughly fucked and Duke’s pretty sure he does as well. Probably best if they swing by the Rouge on their way to the patisserie. But, overall, he thinks as he gives Nathan one last deep tongue-in-mouth kiss, overall this is an incredibly good look for two husbands on their wedding day.

And he knows without asking that Audrey’s gonna agree.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is cheating, a little, since I’ve used Dar Williams’ “[Troubled Times](http://www.metrolyrics.com/troubled-times-lyrics-dar-williams.html#ixzz3Z7ALMP5s)” for a fic [before](http://archiveofourown.org/works/186770). But really. _Troubled times?!_ How could I not use it for Haven fic at some point. 
> 
> Title comes from this snippet:
>
>> With the memory of how you once gave up  
> But you made it through the troubled times


End file.
